who’d whistle while joining the birds’ dawn chorus,
his brain obviously chock-full of endorphins.
Nothing really fazed him during his earthly days
for if you laughed he would laugh with you
but when you cried he’d duly sympathize
yet you would know he was sanguine inside.
A blithe spirit he went to his grave a happy man
untroubled by the tragedies of this mournful world.
Now he whistles, he laughs no more this cheerful chap
decomposing in his new abode, for like all that are mortal
Death has shown him the door.